Servant in His House
by Mari L. Anderson
Summary: Before my memories fade with the passing years, I would record an account of the Battle of the Last Alliance for those in the future to know what is myth and what is fact. Simply put, these are the ramblings of a warrior, who saw much, and maybe learned something by it.


It is one of those grey, smudged days where it seems everything, even the earth, has put on mourning colors. Dark clouds hang low and threatening, their edges grimy with soot and ash. There is no wind to move the clouds or cool the close air. A fetid stench is spouted up from fissures upon a lone mountain, in the midst of a rocky plain. Though some mountains rise gracefully to astronomical height, this mountain is hunched, twisted, and stumpy. Impossibly, the mountain seems to slouch over the ground in all directions. Menacing all who would dare to walk in its shadow. Deep in the heart of the mountain fire is roils and roars. Every once in a while a bright conflagration leaps up from the peak. The mountain continually shakes and rumbles in its exertions. It has an aura of watching, unsleeping evil.

In ages long forgotten, forefathers of men christened it Mount Doom. It bears the name well. In its depths a ring of power was forged by Sauron, lord of darkness, shadows, and malice. This ring was powerful. In it was all of Sauron's evil and strength. This ring was not only powerful but also a cunning and fateful trick. There were other rings of power. Three were given to the elves, wisest and fairest of all peoples, seven to the dwarves, miners and craftsmen, and nine to the race of men, who above all else desire power. All of them were betrayed by Sauron because by his ring were all the others controlled. As long as Sauron's ring was in his possession, no one could defeat him. Sauron had gathered his armies and launched them all across the face of Middle Earth. One by one the lands of the free peoples fell, but there were some who resisted. Those desperate brave-hearts now stand on the brink of victory or ruin

Two armies are massed on the slopes of Mt. Doom. They have fought before. One force holds. One force holds high ground at the base of Mt. Doom. Legions of soldiers swirl and eddy across the earth like a black tide. They are Sauron's slaves. They are not men but foul creatures. From what noisome hole their race crawled at the dawning of the world, it is not known. Though they have many names among the different peoples of Middle Earth, they are universally known as "orcs."

The army opposing the orcs is the last hope of Middle Earth to stop the evil lord Sauron from conquering all the known lands. They are drawn up around three hummocks. On the first hill billows the banner of Gil-galad the supreme king of all the elves. The elves are the oldest race. Theirs is the gift of immortality, of life eternal unless they are killed. The elves do not often fight, for they have grown somewhat wiser than hot-headed men, who will fight over anything. The faces of the fair-folk, as they are called by the men, are grim now. There is no quarter with Sauron. He hates the elves because they have fought him. If any are captured, a quick death is the most they can hope for. Gil-galad has no children. He never married. His trusted captain, Elrond, stands by his side. On the second breaks the banner of Elendil the Tall, the king from the western lands. He and his folk came from the sea and established the mighty realm of Gondor. Tall they are, strong and wise in arts now forgotten. His two sons, Isildur and Anarion, stand beside him. They are strong captains.

On the last of the hills unfurls the banner of the elven king Oropher Greenleaf. His governs the magnificent forest Greenwood the Great, in later years to be called Mirkwood. His son Thranduil fidgets by his side. Thranduil is young and inexperienced. He is here because he can fight, and because if these troops fail, there will be nowhere for him to hide.

So far, the alliance of elves and men, have beaten back the forces of Sauron. About a week ago they won a decisive battle on the plain Dagorlad on the very doorstep of Sauron's land, called Mordor. Like the lord, the land is filled with noxious reeks, poisonous plants, disease, death, and decay. Mountains surround Mordor on three sides. In the north is the Ered Lithui, Ash Mountains, in the west and south is the Ephel Duath, Fence of Shadow. About a third of the way down the length of the land, two spurs jut from the ranges again slicing the land except for a few miles of pass. The land thus ringed in mountains is called the plain of Udun. On it is Mt. Doom, the two armies, and, more importantly, Sauron's fortress, Barad-Dur. The alliance hopes to take this bastion of adamant and raze it. They believe if that doing this with banish Sauron from Middle Earth. They do not know of the ring. As long as the ring exists, Sauron will endure.

The army of Mordor does not attack. Tension is so thick in the air it seems like a palpable force.


End file.
